


A Night Incognito

by bitchinachinashop



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, top!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchinachinashop/pseuds/bitchinachinashop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur attends the servants’ Midsummer party in disguise, and sees a very different side of Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night Incognito

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thanks to Evil_Erato for her beta-ing skillz! Her thoughtful input made this 10x better, even as her crack-dealing distractions made it 10x later. *grin* Also, my fic writing is a shameless bid for attention, so please enable me by commenting!!!

Arthur was quite proud of his disguise. He was confident that even Merlin wouldn’t recognise him in this highwayman costume. Of course, it helped that the last place his manservant would be expecting to see him was at the servant’s Midsummer fancy-dress party.

All the servants in Albion were entitled to two full holidays per year, at Midsummer and Midwinter. They started at sundown on one day and ended at sundown the next, and in between the nobles just had to fend for themselves for a change. The trouble was, as Arthur had discovered at Midwinter and then again when he let his servant visit his mother in Ealdor for a week, that without Merlin, life was boring.

Arthur hated being bored; hence the elaborate plan to crash the servants’ party. Well, it wasn’t actually that elaborate- basically, he had a masque and the thin cover of being Lord Hubert’s new manservant.

It was a good three hours after sunset by the time Arthur managed to pry himself away from his father and his knights. He walked as briskly as possible toward his chambers without appearing to be in an unseemly haste. The halls were surprisingly empty; one didn’t realise how much of the foot traffic in the palace was made up of servants until they were gone, he supposed.

He started shedding his clothes as soon as he walked through the door, throwing each article carelessly on the bed. The black shirt and trousers were a bit snug- they were part of a sparring outfit he’d last worn pre-Merlin. The black leather masque was new, but he’d battered it around to make it match the rest. He tied a scarf over it to hide his tell-tale blond hair, and with one last check in the mirror, he was off.

If the upper halls were unusually empty, the lower halls were packed. Servants in brightly coloured costumes teamed everywhere, shouting, laughing, and most of all drinking. Arthur had three drinks pressed on him before he even reached the main servants’ hall, where the bulk of the festivities were located. He had to quickly hide his reaction to the first sip of one of these- he was used to wine, ale, and occasionally meade. This stuff smelled like the alcohol Gaius used to clean wounds, and tasted like it has been brewed in someone’s barn. A sudden vision of his skinny manservant slumped in a corner after merely sniffing this stuff made Arthur quicken his pace.

As crowded and boisterous as the servants’ hall was, it wasn’t hard to spot Merlin. He was dressed as a knight, with a crude wooden shield and sword, engaged in a mock battle with another servant, who was clearly meant to be a monster of some kind but really looked like the unfortunate remains of of several household pets poorly stitched together.

Merlin was coming off surprisingly well in the fight, especially considering that the shield was propped uselessly against a bench while he held a drink in one hand and sword in the other and delivered a running commentary at the top of his lungs. Arthur recognised it as an account of last week’s battle with a basilisk. He found himself grinning as his servant’s enthusiastic retelling. When the hapless “basilisk” managed to trip over its own tail, allowing Merlin to deliver the “killing” blow, a general cheer went up from the crowd- expect for a single, very conspicuous, “BOO!”

The intimidating figure swaggering insolently towards Merlin was vaguely recognisable to Arthur as Lord Julian’s manservant. Lord Julian had not been very fond of the prince ever since his eldest son had been passed over for knighthood.

“My master says basilisks ain’t even real things. Probably he just squashed some overgrown lizard, hey?” he jeered.

Arthur’s servant advanced on the (much) larger man, spine stiff and eyes glaring, until he stood nose to- well, neck- with him. The rest of the crowd retreated a few steps, except Arthur, who was trying to push through and stop the bloody idiot from getting himself killed. Before he got there, Merlin had handed his drink off and was craning his neck to stare into the other man’s eyes. Somehow he seemed to grow a bit taller and more, well, knight-like.

_Good grief, is that_ my _chainmail?_ The prince thought irrelevantly. The hall had gone deathly quiet, hopefully only in a metaphoric sense.

“You really want to take that back,” his servant told Lord Julian’s in a quiet, even voice that made even Arthur’s eyes widen in respect. His opponent, however, was unphased.

“Really? ‘Cos I don’t think I do,” he answered back with mock consideration, reaching out a sausage-sized finger and poking the smaller man in the chest with it.

Merlin launched himself at the other man. The next few minutes were a blur of elbows, fists and the occasional flash of gold, until Arthur finally managed to get to the centre of the brawl and grab hold of the younger man’s arm. He got an elbow to the lip for his trouble, but after landing one more punch that - unbelievably- laid his opponent flat, the dark-haired man collapsed into the prince’s arms. 

“My hero, “ he said breathlessly, gazing up at Arthur, his face flushed and one eye already purpling.

His heart stopped, and the impulse to yell at Merlin for being a bloody fool died in his throat, replaced by a dry choking feeling. Remembering himself, he pulled the younger man to his feet and supported him with one arm wrapped around his waist. Still grinning triumphantly as they edged toward a bench in the corner of the room, Merlin accepted yet another drink from someone in the crowd and passed one to Arthur as well.

The bruised servant plumped himself gracelessly down on the seat and eyed him speculatively. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” 

“I’m Lord Julian’s new manservant. My name’s Patrick.”

“Merlin. I serve Prince Arthur, for my sins.” His eyes drifted downward as he spoke, taking in the snug fit of Arthur’s costume as it hugged his chest and muscled thighs. His gaze rested far too long on the area between those thighs, and there was a glint to his eye that made Arthur flush slightly behind his mask. This was certainly a side of Merlin he hadn’t seen before. Morgana had told him about his manservant’s popularity among the other (male) servants, but he thought she’d exaggerated just to tease him for his assumptions about the relationship between their two servants.

“Merlin would be far more likely to sleep with you, prat that you are, than Gwen,” she’d mocked him. The memory made him blush harder. He hadn’t given the idea much thought at the time, but with this suddenly cocky and seductive man in front of him, the image seemed all too plausible. And the fact that he had just defended Arthur’s honour didn’t hurt, either.

“I hope your master is worth all the trouble,” he reached out to lightly touch Merlin’s purpling eye.

“He is,” the dark-haired man replied with conviction. “But I’ve talked enough about Prince Arthur for one night,” he added, catching hold of Arthur’s fingers and stroking them softly with his own.

The touch made him suddenly light-headed. He moaned slightly as Merlin leaned forward and drew one of the captured fingers into his mouth.

“In fact, I think I’ve had quite enough talking altogether,” he smirked, and the prince had just enough time to balance himself against the wall before Merlin was kissing him, his split lips stinging as the other man parted them with an insistent tongue.

Arthur lost himself to the kiss, forgetting where they were and who he was underneath the costume. He wasn’t Prince Arthur kissing his servant; he was just Arthur, kissing this very attractive young man. More than kissing, he revised fuzzily as Merlin’s slender fingers found their way under his shirt. They were just cool enough to make him shiver.

The taste of Merlin’s tongue, the feel of teeth nibbling his lower lip, and then the distinct smell of alcohol and soap occupied all of his attention until Merlin’s lips had travelled all along his jaw and neck. “Yours or mine?” he whispered roughly in Arthur’s ear.

A small stab of panic broke through the haze of lust. His was certainly out of the question, and if they went to Merlin’s… A moan escaped his lips at the image accompanying that thought before reality shouldered its way back into his forebrain. If they went to Merlin’s, at some point the mask would have to come off.

He pulled away reluctantly. “I… can’t,” he stuttered. “My master will be expecting me back.”

“We have the whole twenty-four hours, silly. It’s required by law.” When Arthur shook his head quickly, he added, “At least walk me back. I wouldn’t want to be accosted by any more ruffians in my injured state.’

He had to smile. “The noble knight asks the highwayman to guard his honour?”

The dark-haired man gave a sly half-smile that made his heart skip again. He downed the drink in his hand in one gulp for courage, and then spent the next minute coughing and sputtering while Merlin laughed at him.

“That was not ale!”

Merlin took the cup from him and sniffed at it. “Oh no. That was some of Gaius’s special brew. You might be staying at mine after all- if you make it that far.”

“I can hold my alcohol quite well, thank you,” Arthur protested indignantly, although his lips were already feeling slightly numb. Still laughing, the servant tucked his shoulder under Arthur’s arm and led him in the direction of Gaius’s quarters.

The rooms were empty when they arrived- they’d actually passed Gaius in the halls, a few sheets to the wind himself and dangling from the arm of an extremely well-endowed kitchen maid. Arthur felt a flicker of anxiety and anticipation in his stomach, but Merlin seemed bent on being chivalrous now. He fussed Arthur into his bed and set to making up one of the sick cots for himself.

For some reason this irked the prince unreasonably. He needn’t be treated like a sodding invalid after one drink, after all! He snorted indignantly.

“What’s wrong?” Merlin turned around, his arms full of pillows, and Arthur snagged his arm, pulling him down onto the bed and into a rather sloppy kiss. The other man pulled back a moment and gave him a searching look, during which Arthur tried to look as sober as possible. After a few long moments the younger man grinned and bent down to kiss him back in earnest. The prince closed his eyes and breathed in his servant’s closeness, soap and sweat and alcohol all layered over the distinctive scent of Merlin. The freedom of anonymity made him more relaxed than he could ever allow himself to be otherwise. He surrendered himself to the feel of Merlin’s slender, dextrous fingers under his shirt, only stirring himself to swat a hand away when he reached for the ties holding his masque in place. The dark-haired man merely smirked in response and began trailing a line of kisses and nips down the side of his neck.  
He moaned helplessly and pushed his hips up toward the other man, straining for more contact. Merlin chuckled darkly in his ear. “In a hurry?” he whispered, sliding his fingertips just under the top of Arthur’s trousers.

“Yes, please…” Highwayman Arthur begged, as Prince Arthur could not. His servant chuckled again, then pulled away long enough to quickly strip off his own shirt and trousers before setting to work on the sparring outfit. He fumbled a bit with the laces before pulling them off in one swift motion and tossing them irritably across the room. The air was warm against Arthur’s skin, his cock hot, hard and heavy against his stomach. It made the cool wet slide of the other man’s tongue even more shocking at it lapped at the tip. He shivered violently. 

Merlin glanced up through dark lashes, his blue eyes concerned. “Alright?” he asked.

“Y-yes,” he stuttered. “Please… Please don’t stop.”

The younger man’s lips curved in a way that made Arthur’s heart do something he would think about later, then turned his attention back to the prince’s cock. He lost himself in the wet warmth of his servant’s mouth wrapped around him, his fingers tangling in the unruly dark hair that he so often wanted to take a brush to. When he opened his eyes to see that head bobbing up and down, making obscene slurping noises, his heart and his cock almost burst at once.

“Oh, god- Merlin!” he shouted, coming hard with no other warning. The other man swallowed greedily and licked him clean with a wicked grin and even more filthy slurping. Then he pulled himself up next to Arthur, stroking a bare shoulder absently as he turned an inscrutable gaze on his partner. Even in his relaxed state Arthur could tell Merlin was still hard- the thick heat of it lay pressed against his thigh. 

“Well, Sir Knight, you seem to have caught yourself a wanted criminal. Don’t you want to claim your reward?” He raised an eyebrow suggestively even as a few butterflies started swirling in his stomach.

“Did you have a particular reward in mind?” Merlin asked cautiously, running a fingertip down past Arthur’s balls to circle around his entrance.

The prince felt all composure slipping away from him at the feather-light touch. Not trusting himself to speak without babbling and begging, he closed his eyes and nodded mutely.

He could feel the heat of his lover’s eyes on him without looking. He kept his own lids closed as he listened to Merlin rummaging through the mess on the floor and heard the triumphant yelp as he came up with a jar of herb-scented ointment. Opening it with one hand, the dark-haired man leaned forward to kiss him, driving away any lingering apprehension with his passion. 

His cock began to harden again as Merlin traced his hole purposefully with a slicked finger. He slid the tip in slowly, working it around to help relax the muscles. Arthur groaned loudly, winning a chuckle from the other man.

“You like that, huh?” he asked as he slowly eased another finger in beside the first. 

He nodded again, biting his lip against Merlin’s name. It wouldn’t do to blow his cover now; not when he was so close to what he wanted.

“Fuck me,” he begged, the last of his control breaking down. “Fuck me, please, now.”

Merlin responded with a moan of his own and withdrew his fingers, leaving Arthur feeling their loss keenly for a moment before they were replaced with the pressure of the younger man’s cock against his entrance. He focussed on relaxing, whimpering slightly as Merlin’s tip eased past the first ring of muscle. He moved slowly at first, but soon, in response to the prince’s repeated pleas, he was fucking him hard and deep.

“Merlin, yes, please yes…” All thoughts of discretion were pushed out of his mind by his servant’s cock.

“Oh, so close…” Merlin reached down to stroke Arthur’s hard length.

“Oh god- Yes, yes, YES!” he came with a shout.

The other man’s thrusts became erratic as he moved towards the brink himself. “Oh god, feels so good inside you… I’m gonna come, so hard… Oh oh ohoh, Arthur!” 

Merlin spasmed wildly and Arthur could feel his hot seed spilling over inside him. He lay still for a moment, dazed by the aftermath of sensation as his servant slowly, carefully slid out of him. And then…

“Wait, what?” He sat up abruptly, staring at the younger man.

Merlin clapped a hand over his mouth, flushing crimson.

“You KNEW?” Arthur shouted. “You knew, and you let me…” it was his turn to flush as he gestured wordlessly at the soiled, rumpled bed.

“Arthur, I’m sorry, I just… I thought it would be my only chance,” his servant said miserably. “I’ve wanted this- wanted you- for so long.”

The prince stared at him, completely at a loss. Instead of triumphant or mocking, as he would expect from a servant who’d gotten the better of him, Merlin looked- heartbroken. His anger abruptly softened into an overwhelming affection. He gathered his lover to him with one arm, removing the obviously useless masque and scarf with the other.

“Shh, Merlin, it’s alright,” he whispered softly, kissing the top of his head. They lay in each other’s arms quietly for a while, until Arthur began to get cold. Then they resettled themselve in the narrow bed, making a nest out of blankets and pillows. When they were comfortable again, he asked curiously, “How did you know?”

“Who else would put himself in harm’s way to rescue me?” He pressed a kiss to his lover’s lips.

“Well, you were fighting for my honour,” he pointed out, returning the kiss. “My knight in shining armour.”

Merlin smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> For Anna, always.


End file.
